The lineup outside the Hammersmith Apollo on Monday was made up of a fascinating cross-section of society.
The final show in Bob Dylan’s six-week European tour was sold out, and there were at least three generations of people waiting out in the cold to see a legend whose music has transcended time.
I still couldn’t believe I actually held a pair of tickets in my hands.
In the early months of 2010, my life revolved around this 70-year-old man, and I was not the only 21-year-old dissertation student vying to dissect his work.
Dylan has permeated time and culture like no other musician — and his enigmatic lyrics have fascinated me since I first narcissistically interpreted The Times They Are a’Changin’ as poignantly representative of my emotional turmoil over having to move from my hometown when I was 13. An interpretation I assure you did not make it into my 10,000 word essay on Dylan’s subconscious use of language.
So my nerves were charged as I joined the diverse ranks of Dylan fans — a handful of whom had clearly supported the folk star since the civil rights movement from which he emerged.
Fifty years later, surely we ought to suspect his incredible career is coming to a close.
On stage, however, Dylan did little to indicate that the times would soon be a’changin once again.
In his characteristic style, Dylan simply took to the stage and played as if he and his band were back in the studio. There was no ‘Hello London!’, no band introductions, no tour stories or song explanations, no farewell wishes and, to the great disappointment of the 5,000 fans watching, no encore performance.
Just as he has been doing for half a century, Dylan played for the sake of the music only and took little notice of his audience, and his talent and passion were as unwavering as his idiosyncratic character.
After spending hours watching documentaries and struggling to decipher his wacky literary concoctions, there was something spiritual about watching those lyrics come alive.
Dylan didn’t sing The Times They Are a’Changin’. In fact, he played very few of his most popular songs. Like a Rolling Stone and Forever Young were the only mega-hits Dylan played on Monday, and they were featured at the end of the concert.
But it wasn’t a case of saving the best for last. It was clear from Dylan’s conversations with the band between every song that he was deciding on order as inspiration struck him.
So if a few from the audience grew bored because they weren’t familiar with Dylan’s lesser known songs, they missed the rare exposition of a musician who submits himself to the music and channels a creative energy bigger than himself.
In any case, this legend is 70-years-old and his career is 50-years strong, so it is something of a miracle he is still performing at all.
Few art buyers meet the individual behind the brush when they purchase paintings — there are no downhearted sighs when you visit a gallery and find that each revered artist is not standing beside their work, waiting to shake their viewers’ hands.
Likewise, Dylan was displaying his work — his art — and his entire life has been poured into the songs. For what better introduction can we hope?
I just count myself fortunate that I crossed paths with the icon while I could.
It was great to finally meet you, Bob.
Brit Kennedy grew up in Red Deer and graduated from Lindsay Thurber Comprehensive High School. She attended university in Scotland and is now living and working in London, England.